Reunion at Tear Point: Part One
by Mayhem N. Jeans
Summary: Sith Warrior Soarise Grae has been tasked with hunting down the traitor Desmia, a rogue witch who plans on using Rakata technology to rebirth the Infinite Empire and cleanse the galaxy. Suspicious activity on an Imperial station leads Soarise there, where she reunites with officer Malavai Quinn.
1. Chapter 1

"And who will my contact be?' Soarise Grae asked, crossing her long legs elegantly. Bored, she looked at the cuticles on her smooth hands. Darth A'cost clasped his hands on top of his black wood desk.

"You're familiar with him. It's Captain Malavai Quinn,"

Soarise jerked her head up, no longer concerned with her manicure. A'cost's face was smug at her reaction, "I knew you'd recognize him. After the incident on Balmorra, your recommendations got him promoted to captain on Tear Point station. I'm sure he remembers you as well," Soarise took a deep breath to calm the blood rushing to her cheeks.

She'd probably never forget Quinn. It had been months, almost a year now, since she had seen him. Before she left, she had been speaking with him in the base's cantina, the only building still standing after a brutal ambush. He was usually reserved, but as he drank the whiskey, he became much looser. She tried to comfort him from his devastation of the loss of his troops, but her actions must have been misinterpreted by the tipsy officer because without warning, he had kissed her firmly on the mouth. Suddenly sober, he apologized and left flustered. Her lips still tingled at the memory.

A'cost watched her, his keen predator eyes staring her down. The Togruta Sith always seemed to be able to tell watch she was thinking, no matter how hard she tried to conceal her emotions. Soarise braced herself for a scolding or a threat, but he said nothing about it, "You will go there and confer with him. He's been doing a preliminary investigation and will fill you in on the details. Admiral Serv will be your superior, so report whatever findings to him. Your goal is not to solve the mystery, but you are to decide if Desmia is behind it. The station is a strategic point to guarding a planet where a Rakata archaeological site is being excavated, which as we know, is something Desmia is extremely interested in,"

"And should I find her, do I have permission to engage her?"

"The question should be '_are you prepared this time_?'" He replied.

She winced at the bluntness of his response. After spending years training and hunting Desmia, Soarise was defeated the first time she found the rogue witch. A'cost was surprisingly merciful by not punishing her, but he warned her that should she fail again, he will not be so kind. She knew he would not kill her or physically maim her because he had spent too much time training her as his personal bodyguard, but she also knew there were countless other ways to torture her.

"So, Soarise, do you think you can handle it this time?"

"Yes, Master," She nodded, standing up, "You will not be disappointed," She turned, leaving his office, but she could feel the heat of his golden eyes boring into the back of her head.

"Don't fail this time," He warned her. A shiver crept up her spine. His voice was dangerous; she could almost hear the sounds of torture in his tone.


	2. Chapter 2

The _Amnesty_ was waiting for her in the Korriban hangar bay. Soarise still wasn't used to this new, sleek ship. The Deliverer had been destroyed back on Balmorra, the ship she had relied on for years before. She couldn't argue that the _Amnesty_ wasn't a fine ship, it really was. Modern and almost luxurious, it was a joy to drive. Still, she missed _Deliverer's_ solid and clunky style.

Outside the ship, Vette sat on a pile of crates, reading a holo magazine. The Twi'lek had been Soarise's companion for a long time; she couldn't imagine life without the chirpy girl at her side. No matter how out of control Soarise felt amidst the violence of her world, Vette provided an anchor of levity that kept her sane.

"Vette," Soarise called, "We're leaving,"

Vette looked up, excited. Her lekku twitched as she hopped off the crates, "Finally! This place is driving me nuts," She closed the magazine and tucked it into her pocket, bounding back on board the ship. Soarise followed behind her, flicking on the lights inside.

_Amnesty's _center was a circular lounge, with several halls branching out to other rooms of the ship, like the cockpit, barracks, cabin, kitchen, and cargo hold. It was spacious and comfortable, designed to hold about 10 people with plenty of breathing space. The high capacity made it feel empty with only her and Vette, but she couldn't imagine actually having 10 people on board. That would be crazy, though she wondered what it would be like being surrounded by so many people.

Of course, the last time she was a part of a group- the other acolyte trainees- it had been viscous. Cut throat acolytes determined to prove themselves as the best by killing their competitors. That constant fear of being betrayed wasn't something she cared to relive.

After plugging in Tear Point's coordinates, Soarise went back to the lounge. Vette was sprawled out in her usual spot, the padded leather armchair, sitting sideways with her legs hanging over the arm of the chair. She had her magazine back out and was skimming over the pages. Glancing over the top of the magazine, the Twi'lek studied Soarise as she sat down across from her.

"So," Vette said, "Where are we going?"

"Tear Point station. There's been a series of accidents there, and since it's a critical strategic point for a Rakata site, we suspect Desmia may be behind it. Once we get there, we'll decide whether or not we need to be involved,"

"Fantastic. I do love a good mystery. But what kind of station is this? I don't really wanna be stuck in the middle of space with a bunch of Imp officers, you know,"

"I can assure you that you'll be fine. Malavai Quinn is in charge of the station, and he took care of that last time,"

Vette perked up at the name, "_Quinn_?" She could hardly contain her excitement, "You mean that hot piece of Imperial as-"

"-Vette!" Soarise scolded her before she could finish the description of Malavai.

"Sorry," She said, but her wry smile said otherwise, "You mean that super fine officer who had the hots for you?"

Soarise rolled her eyes, "That wasn't much better. But, yes, I suppose that's correct," A smile fought its way onto her face. There wasn't much point in disguising from Vette that she was excited to see him again. Even though she had only known him for a few days, he was the only person besides Vette that she had ever felt truly comfortable talking to. The fact that he was extremely easy on the eyes-with his fit physique, black hair, blue eyes, and impeccable manners- was a bonus.

"You still like him, too, don't you?" Vette sounded as eager as a high school girl discussing crushes. The last time Soarise had seen her so giddy was, well, the last time they'd been talking about Malavai.

Soarise shrugged nonchalantly, "I can't argue that he has a very pleasing, symmetrical appearance about him that can be interpreted as 'attractive.' But I enjoy his presence because of how efficiently he assists me. Unlike you, he actually helped me get things done,"

Vette grinned, "But mostly you think he's pretty,"

"Fine. He's very pretty," She also remembered looking at the charcoal sketches in his office. And how he had saved her by using his own body as a shield over hers. The tears in his eyes as he mourned the deaths of his men. The feel of his soft lips, tasting of gunpowder and whiskey.

"-Hey, Soarise! Vette calling Soarise, can you read me? Over,"

Soarise shook herself out of the reverie. That was stupid. If she planned on doing a proper investigation, she shouldn't let herself be so easily distracted by a simple man, "Right, sorry," She rubbed her sweaty palms on the armrest of the couch, "I better get ready. Make a meal for us to eat before we get there. You know how awful imperial station food can be,"

Vette watched her with knowing eyes, but nodded her head, "Sure thing, boss. Of course, it isn't like my cooking is _so_ much better,"

"At least I can pretend the burned taste is just some sort of spice," Soarise called as she walked into her cabin.

The cabin of the _Amnesty _was perhaps its most spectacular feature in Soarise's opinion. A fairly spacious room with a large, canopied bed in the middle, a walk-in closet, and a personal bathroom, it looked more like a hotel room than a ship cabin. Of course, it was sparsely decorated and kept dim. The bedding was just gunmetal grey and the walls matched. Plush black carpet and silver fixtures, it was dark but luxurious. Maybe one day she, with Vette's help, would redecorate it into something a little more comfortable. Of course, she could only imagine A'cost's reaction if she did that.

_You are the most deadly warrior in the order, and you wasted _my_ budget to make your room _cozy_?_

His perplexed face amused her enough that she was almost tempted to do it.

Soarise sat down in front of her vanity in the better lit bathroom. A'cost insisted that she keep her appearance well maintained as a weapon of sorts. He had had her trained by an Imperial matriarch of an aristocracy so that she could learn the ways to improve her looks and manners. She had started as a lanky teen, with dull skin and frizzed hair, and finished as, to be honest, as a beauty. With the assistance of facials, creams, conditioners, and oils, Soarise transformed herself into a woman whose looks gave her an edge over her opponents. Some would underestimate her elegant manners as being weak, while others, particularly men, would be more susceptible to bending to her will.

While fooling her enemies was nice, Soarise liked the normalcy that she felt while grooming herself. For a moment, as she washes and lotions her face, she feels like a normal young woman. Being pretty made her feel like a real person, not as a machine trained solely for killing.

She swept powder over her nose and mascara over her eyelashes, smudged color over her lids and lips, and combed product in her hair. Brushing her hair into an elegant up-do on top of her head, a few rogue strands hanging loose, she felt nearly complete. As she stood up, she made a last minute decision. She picked up a tiny garnet bottle of perfume given to her by the matriarch. A rich, floral scent of jasmine and spices, she used it sparingly but adored it. It was an intoxicating scent, filled with mystery and danger, and was incredibly sexy.

Dabbing a tiny drop over her wrists and collar bone, she decided that she was ready just as the ship gently lurched out of hyperspace.

Tear Point station looked like an average Imperial Station, spherical with spires, not unlike Vaiken station, somewhere Soarise typically avoided. She waited as the _Amnesty _docked into the airlock. Suddenly, her stomach felt sick and she wanted to vomit up the food Vette had made. What if she was wrong in her judgment of Malavai and that he was really as dull and greedy as all the other Imperial officers?

"Hey," Vette stood next to her, as though she could sense Soarise's worry, "It'll be fine," Her voice was gentle and free from teasing. Soarise nodded, swallowing. She only had a few minutes to compose herself and put on her persona as the Sith order's greatest assassin.

"I'm not concerned," She replied in a cool tone. Perfect. Icy and distant, that was what she was going for. She wasn't here to reunite with Malavai, but to continue her sole purpose in life that was to find Desmia and make her pay for betraying the Sith. As nice a man as Malavai seemed, she simply did not have time to mess in menial relationships like that. Attachments would only lead to weakness. Vette recognized the change in Soarise's mood and became silent.

Playtime was over.


	3. Chapter 3

The doors slid open with a whoosh, swishing back Soarise's black cloak. Standing before her, arms crossed, was not Malavai, but another officer flanked by burly security droids. A Chiss woman, her uniform crisply pressed, but her black hair was a wild mess of curls barely tamed into a bun, greeted Soarise with a cold glance. Instinctively, Soarise returned the iciness with a stare of her own.

"Lord Grae," The woman said, bowing respectfully, "I am Lieutenant Elvriss. I will escort you and your," She looked at Vette, brash and unkempt, with a pinched look on her face, "Your companion to the bridge where the captain and admiral will brief you,"

"Thank you," Soarise replied. Elvriss motioned for her to follow and turned around. Vette stuck her tongue out, but Soarise subtly smacked her arm as a reminder to behave, and followed Elvriss. The guard droids marched behind her, their heavy feet clanking with every step. These droids were not designed for style, but for pure intimidation. They also had the bite to go with their bark and were even the same model that the Sith used as security around the temple.

"Those are excellent droids you have," Soarise commented to Elvriss.

The Chiss woman waved her hand nonchalantly, "Yes, they were given to us as protocol for the incidents. We have a dozen more just like them patrolling the station at all times, plus a backup team. Needless to say, not even you could hope to take them on,"

Soarise had been practicing destroying these droid models for a long time, but she chose not to argue with her about that. The less the Lt knew, the better.

Soarise followed Elvriss to the bridge, staying silent the rest of the time and observed the station. It was a security battle station designed to guard the planet below with the fleet it commanded in orbit. However, the station was poorly guarded against intruders itself and didn't have protocols for that, hence why they needed the droids. They actually passed two separate droid patrols. There also wasn't a lot of people, mostly just off duty officers and engineers running maintenance. Most crews stayed aboard the star destroyers outside, and the majority of the station was self-sufficient. Vette seemed relieved by the empty halls, and Soarise couldn't but also be comforted as well.

The bridge was a circular control room located at the top of the station. All around the room were wide windows showing the space, filled with star destroyers, outside. In the center was the admiral's post, a posh chair surrounded by the critical system consoles. Sitting in the chair was who Soarise assumed was the admiral.

A burly man with an extraordinary mustache, Admiral Serv nodded at Soarise, "Welcome aboard Tear Point station, my lord," He said in a deep voice as he stood up to bow to her.

"Admiral," She looked around. Malavai wasn't on the bridge, thankfully. She wanted to postpone seeing him as long as possible.

"Your liaison, Captain Quinn, will be up here shortly," Serv continued, "Then we'll go to the briefing room so that we can fully discuss the situation,"

"Sounds like a plan," She replied.


	4. Chapter 4

Malavai Quinn cursed himself as he hurried to the bridge. The Sith investigator arrived earlier than expected, so he had to hurriedly put the finishing touches on his presentation. Now he was running late, which was not a good way to make an impression. Sith terrified him, as they do all officers. The only Sith he had not feared was Soarise, and he had certainly flubbed up with her. After she saved his career from wallowing on Balmorra a year ago, he had spent many a sleepless nights replaying their final moments together.

Of course, in his imagination, he did not drunkenly kiss her, but was rather suave and in charge, wooing her instead. If he made a list of his ten worst moments of his career, that would take the top three spots. Not that it was bad kiss, but she easily should have either killed or maimed him, not give his superiors a life-saving promotion like she did.

Now, here he was, about to deal with another Sith. Ideally, he won't kiss this one, but apparently that was something he'd have to watch out for. Practically running, he hopped onto the lift to the bridge. Tucking the portfolio under his arm, he took a moment to compose himself, smoothing out his collar and jacket. He took a deep, calming breath. There was a slight hint of perfume in the air from whoever last rode the lift. It smelled vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place it.

The lift dinged as it reached the bridge. Nervous, he waited for the doors to slide open. Stars, the Sith racked his nerves and he hadn't met this one yet. The doors finally opened.

There, on the bridge, stood Soarise, looking just as elegantly beautiful as she did on Balmorra.

Malavai's entire nervous system went into shock as she looked over at him. Her eyes lit up with recognition, though her face was smooth. He felt his heart go into palpitations as if icy water was flung over him. Without thinking, he jammed his thumb into the lift's control pad, slamming the door back shut.

Hiding in the lift, he wasn't sure if he should cry, vomit, or run away and retire. Never in a million years did he expect to see her again. Bracing himself against the wall, he took quick deep breaths. Of course, it was _her_ perfume he had smelled. How could he have not recognized that?

"Steady, Quinn, get a hold of yourself. You're an Imperial officer, not a schoolboy!" He scolded himself, pinching his trembling wrist. Holding the portfolio in one hand, he shakily pressed the open button of the lift. He could be composed about this, really he could. He was a commander, he could handle a fleet of enemy ships any day. Certainly he could handle a single woman.

Admiral Serv chuckled at him as the door opened, "What happened there, Quinn?" He asked.

"Door must have malfunctioned," He replied calmly, "We'll have to get maintenance to look at it,"

"Huh. Alright, Elvriss, put in a request for that," Serv said to the Chiss woman, who nodded and went to the intercom console, "Captain Quinn, this is Lord Grae, the Sith investigator,"

"Ah, we've met before," Malavai said, not looking at her. His face was burning hot and he was certain if he looked at her, he would melt.

"Yes, Captain Quinn assisted me on a similar investigation a year or so ago," Soarise said, her voice as silky as he remembered, sending shivers up his spine. _Keep it together_, he warned himself, finally looking at her.

Up close, with her dark eyelashes and soft skin, he felt his knees tremble. She watched him, a faint grin on the edge of her lips. Fool, she could probably sense his emotions from a mile away.

"It's good to see you, again, my lord," He bowed to her, keeping his eyes locked on either her left ear or the floor. If he looked anywhere else, he possibly would lose control.

"I'm pleased as well, Captain,"

Elvriss stepped in, "Excuse me, but are you well, Captain?" She asked, not in a caring way, but just to draw attention to his obvious ire.

"Yes, quite fine," He replied curtly, "Just must have eaten something wrong in the mess hall,"

"Oh, yes, I told you not to eat that burrito dish," Serv said, clapping his hand roughly on his shoulder, "You'll likely be blowing it out both ends tonight. What's spicy going in is spicy going out,"

Soarise's companion, a Rutian Twi'lek, chuckled, "Gross!"

Malavai calculated what the chances of a black hole suddenly appearing and swallowing him were.

"Then we'd better get this briefing going before the Captain spews," Serv said.

He caught Soarise's amused face watching him. _Not high enough,_ he lamented silently.


	5. Chapter 5

As Soarise followed the officers, she tried not to laugh. The whole time she had been so concerned about what it would be like for her to see Malavai again, that she didn't even imagine what it would be like for him. The pure look of terror on his face before he had shut the lift doors was priceless. He obviously was dying on the inside from embarrassment. He was such a reserved and tactile man, the impulsiveness of kissing a Sith apparently drove him mad. Vette looked at Soarise, also trying not to laugh at poor Quinn.

By the time they reached the briefing room, Malavai had managed to pull himself together a little bit. Plugging in a data chip into the projector, he pulled up blueprints discussing what incidents had happened and where.

The incidents started out minimal. Occasional power outages caused by electrical impulses, common in a station of this size. However, the outages started to grow in number and magnitude, eventually leading to the deaths of a team of engineers in the ducts. Communications with the other ships was becoming sketchy, and at one point, they lost life support for one hour.

"These sound like an engineer's problem, not a Sith's" Soarise said finally as he droned on about schematics. If he wasn't so attractive, with his clipped accent and flustered motions, she would have fallen asleep by now. Vette certainly did, Soarise noticed in the chair next to her that the Twi'lek had put her forehead on the table and was gently snoring.

She gently poked her in the side, Vette suddenly sitting up, "I'm up!" She cried out in surprise and then looked embarrassed at the officer's watching her, "Sorry," She whispered.

Malavai continued, "Yes, but upon further investigation- done with droids for the safety of the crew- each of the outages was caused by a purposely placed EMP generator. The EMP generator self-destructed upon removal for investigation, destroying the droids in the process. Those were placed there specifically for the interruption of Tear Point's systems. We fear that the intruder plans on permanently knocking out our critical systems- life support, communication, and shields- and invade the planet below for the Rakata tech that is being excavated,"

Admiral Serv looked at Soarise, "That's where you come in. The Empire's main priority is to stop this attack, but yours is to discover who is behind them, and then stop them,"

"Right," Soarise nodded. She saw Vette had fallen back asleep, but chose to ignore her this time, "Have the security droids had any sort of impact on the attacks?"

"No," Malavai answered, "And I believe that is because our intruder is using the duct system to navigate. The station isn't equipped to scan for life forms, so they would be nearly undetectable,"

"But the system is nearly impossible to navigate without inside help," Elvriss added, "The only way a person could possibly navigate them is if they have access to the ship's schematics, which only the officers in this room," She motioned to herself, Serv, and Malavai, "Have. And we know they aren't using droids because we've been scanning for them,"

"So, can I investigate the ducts then and look for evidence?" Soarise asked.

"No," Malavai said quickly. Everyone glanced at him, "I mean, no, because every engineer team we've sent has been killed by electrical impulses. Sending you in would be pointless, Sith or not,"

"Electric?" Soarise knew that Desmia preferred to use her advanced skill of Force Lightening to kill her victims. She made a mental note of that. She glanced at Malavai, who nodded knowingly. It must have clicked in his mind that she was here for the same reason she had gone to Balmorra. He had also witnessed on Balmorra Desmia's skill with lightening first hand, "Tell me where to start looking," She said, standing up. She had had enough of the briefing for now; she needed to gather her own facts.

"I'll escort you to the engineering deck. It's the most practical entry way to the ducts, so the best place to start looking," Malavai said, flicking off the projected blueprints and tucking his portfolio back under his arm.

Serv and Elvriss also stood up. Yawning and stretching, the admiral said, "You two go check it out while Elvriss and I get back to the bridge,"

Soarise shook Vette's shoulder. Sleepily, the Twi'lek looked up at her, "Vette, I'm going to take you back to the _Amnesty _where you can properly sleep," Nodding, Vette stood up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

After dropping Vette off at the _Amnesty _in the docking bay, Soarise was alone with Malavai. Side by side, they walked silently, unsure of what to say to each other.

Finally, Malavai broke the silence, "I've wanted to thank you, my lord," He said, staring at his feet.

"For what?"

"After Balmorra, your recommendation saved my career. I had all but sunk it, but you brought it back to life. Now I am better able to serve the Empire in this position than I could have before,"

She smiled at the sincerity of his words, "You've served well, Quinn, I felt that you should have the recognition you deserve,"

"You have my utmost gratitude, my lord,"

They were silent again. She knew he wasn't going to bring up the kiss. Perhaps later she would toy with him about it, but now his nerves seemed shot by just the fact that she was here.


	6. Chapter 6

In the engineering room, Malavai led Soarise over to a large vent, "This is the most logical place for an intruder to infiltrate our duct system," He explained, "It's too risky to fully explore ourselves, but I can show you the inside of it," Setting down his portfolio, he pushed up the sleeves of his pressed uniform. Soarise was briefly distracted by his forearms. Malavai grabbed the edges of the vent, prying it off with a grunt. It looked heavy; After all, it was a 2 meter sheet square of metal. She watched him lift it off the opening and set it down, the muscles in his forearms bulging slightly at the strain.

He looked so much healthier now that he hadn't been living on the front lines in the wilderness, she noted. His cheekbones were still sharp, but not so gaunt anymore. She wondered absently if he had been working out.

"Here you go, my lord," He said. Soarise peered into the dark opening of the vent. Malavai tossed her a flashlight, which illuminated the vent brightly. The vent was dusty, motes floating in the flashlight's beam, and the main passage stretched on what looked like forever, while various hallways led to the other parts of the station, "We're safe in the main shaft," Malavai said, so she stepped in the narrow opening.

The shaft was small, of course, so she had to duck. Malavai followed behind her. The top of his head accidentally brushed the shaft, sending a cloud of white dust over him. He coughed, but still followed, pulling out his own flashlight.

"Where do these go?" She asked, her voice echoing. Stopping in front of one, she saw that the shaft went for a few feet, and then suddenly dropped down.

"Everywhere," Malavai replied, standing next to her. She could smell his aftershave. "I've looked at the schematics several times, but I don't have them memorized. Basically, you can get to anywhere on the station from here, only it's a maze, and has countless dead ends. Also, a wrong turn could lead to you falling out of an airlock or into the incinerator,"

"Ouch,"

"On top of that, many shafts are vertical, making them nearly impossible to traverse. This metal," He tapped the wall, sending another cloud of dust in his face, "Ah, this metal is extremely conductive, which is useful for the engineers, but possibly deadly to us if there are any loose electrical charges. Another issue is the cleaning system that is for clearing out debris blocking the shafts; It sends a huge blast of air that creates a vacuum and sucks anything inside to the incinerator, but we shouldn't have to worry about that,"

Soarise looked around, "I think I've seen enough for now," She announced. The rumble in her stomach echoed in the shaft. Embarrassed, she chuckled, "Sorry. Suppose I'll have to risk it in the mess hall and get something to eat after this,"

"Your bravery astounds me," He muttered, "Very well, my lord," Malavai pressed himself against the wall to let her pass first. Scooting past him, she was awkwardly close, and she noticed him squeeze his eyes shut. She was amused by his reaction to her. He didn't seem afraid of her in the same way that so many others were but was definitely terrified. It was actually flattering, even if it was just because he was still embarrassed by what he had done before.

Back into the light of the engine room, Soarise brushed off the dust from her clothes, blinking. The dust was tickling her nose and eyes. Malavai followed, gingerly flicking dust from his cuff and shoulders. Somehow he had managed to keep his uniform almost perfectly clean. She was impressed until he turned around. When he had let her pass him and pressed against the wall, his back was coated in a thick coat of the white dust.

"Oh, stars, Quinn," She laughed, "You've gotten dust all over you,"

"What?" He asked, looking down his clean front. She rubbed her hand over his back, her fingers coming away covered. His blue eyes widened in horror as she showed his her dusty hand, "Oh, good stars," He groaned, "Excuse me, my lord, but I am in shambles. I must go and clean up; it's absolutely shameful for an officer to treat his uniform so carelessly,"

"You're fine," Her voice was surprisingly warm, "What good is the uniform if it never gets mussed up in the line of duty?"

"I suppose I see your point. However, I still must go and change, otherwise the allergies of the entire station will be irritated. I'll escort you back to the hangar, then I will depart," His face was flushed, again. She didn't remember him being quite so easily flustered last time.

Malavai escorted Soarise back to the hangar where her ship was waiting for her.

"Thank you, Quinn. I think I'll have to teach myself how to navigate the station, though,"

"It's a little tricky. I had some problems myself when I first came here. If you want, I'll download a map to your comm later,"

"That'd be excellent," She thanked him. A tendril of her hair was curling against her cheek with dust on it.

For a moment, they stood awkwardly. Malavai clasped his hands behind his back on rocked on his heels. Staring at the ground, he cleared his throat, "Ah, my lord?"

"Yes?"

Still looking down, he quickly said, "If you don't wish to go to the mess hall, I have a mini kitchen in my quarters, so you could join me for dinner," Taking a deep breath, he continued, "I prefer to avoid the mess hall myself, so if you want to have an alternative. Plus, I could load the maps into your comm, and we can further discuss the situation,"

"That sounds like a plan, Captain,"

Malavai stopped mid-sentence. He seemed surprised at how easily she accepted his offer. Of course, he was still surprised he had even made the offer. Where was his protocol? It wasn't proper to invite superiors to dine in one's personal quarters, especially when one had such a history as he had with her, "Oh. Good. It's just a business meeting. Just for discussion of potential routes for the investigation. Do you have any food allergies or preferences?"

"No allergies, unless you're serving Rodian dishes, but I do have a devilish fondness for pasta and chocolate,"

"I'll take that into consideration," Before he said anything else foolish, he quickly turned away to leave.

"Quinn!" Soarise called. He stopped turning slowly around, "Where are you quarters?" She asked.

"Oh, right, uh," He struggled to recall the four characters on his door, "114B,"

She smiled at him. Her teeth peeked through her full mouth and had the tiniest gap between the front two. Stars, she has a pretty smile, he thought, but then immediately regretted thinking that, "Thank you, Captain. I'll be over at 1800 hours,"


	7. Chapter 7

Malavai practically ran back to his quarters. If she was going to be over at 1800 hours, that gave him only 3 hours to prepare. He had to clean both himself and his quarters, and then make the food, plus if she wanted pasta and chocolate, that was going to take some extra time, as well. "No, I can't make pasta and chocolate, she'll get the wrong idea from me," He said to himself as he fumbled with his access keycard, "Just make pasta," He imagined splattering red sauce on his uniform, "No…Something chocolate. Or would having dessert be too obvious? Do I even have any chocolate?"

Swinging open his door, he ran straight his cabinets, flinging each one open. Indeed, he saw a canister of Naboo cocoa on the very top shelf, "Bingo!" He cried out as he strained to reach it. He'd never said bingo before and did not plan on saying it again. Grabbing it, as well as a box of noodles and cans of tomato preserves, he set everything on the counter as he frantically unbuttoned his dusty jacket.

After he had changed into his spare pants and undershirt- no way was he cooking in a freshly pressed jacket with the danger of grease spills- he set the little stove to heating up and a pot of water to boil. While those heated up, he jumped around the living room area, picking up the various objects that were out of place.

His cabin was small but luxurious compared to the barracks he lived in on the frontlines. One main room with the kitchen, living room, and dining alcove, then two separate rooms for a bedroom and bathroom, it was cozy. The only décor was what the housing service people provided, so generic paintings, rugs, and a few mass produced trinkets. On the dining table, his charcoal sketches were scattered across from where he had been drawing the night before. Soarise loved his artwork, he remembered but still stacked them up and tossed them onto his neatly made bed.

One picture in particular caught his attention. It was a sketch of her he had done shortly after she had left. In it, he had captured her when she was looking at his other sketches. She was turned to him, an amused smile on her face as she was surprised to see that he could draw so well. He rarely drew people, but he couldn't get the way she had looked at him out of his head until he sketched it onto paper. Picking it up, he tucked it under his bed where she would not find it.

He heard the hiss as water boiled over in the pot. Cursing, he hurried back to the kitchen. Just as he flicked on the lights for the room, a loud popping sound came just as they died off. Navigating the dark room, he picked the pot off the stove, water burning his hand.

"Blast!" He groaned. Of all the times for his lights to go out, this had to be it. Blindly, he fumbled for his emergency lanterns under his sink. Turning them on, he was rewarded with a dim, candle-like glow. _Candlelight_? Fantastic. All he wanted to do was have a nice meal with a pleasant woman and discuss the investigation and even properly apologize to her for making the wrong impression back on Balmorra. And a candlelit dinner in his personal quarters was certainly _not_ the correct way to make amends for making unwanted romantic advances.

Finally, he had an acceptably platonic looking dish of noodles in a creamy tomato sauce, toasted bread, and a batch of chocolate biscuits were baking in the oven. For a second, he considered getting out the red wine he had stashed in the hardest to reach cabinet because it would pair perfectly with the pasta, but he decided that alcohol was something he should avoid, especially when seeing Soarise. This meal was more than just a business meeting to him, it was chance of redemption.

He looked at the clock on the stove. 17:42. He had fifteen minutes to mentally prepare himself to dine with the Sith. His shaky hands told him he would need as much preparation as possible.

Soarise felt like she was on a cloud as she waltzed back aboard the _Amnesty_, "Vette!" She called out. The Twi'lek popped her head out from her little nook where she had been spying on Soarise and Malavai.

"Hello, you charmer you," Vette chuckled.

"What?" Soarise asked innocently, "I'm just going to have a meeting with him. Discussing a series of murders and sabotage over food does not count as a date,"

Snorting, Vette teased, "You just have really high standards, that's all,"

"Think whatever you may, fool, but you're wrong," Soarise touched her dusty hair, "I'm going to wash off this dust,"

After her shower, Soarise stared at her closet, her body and hair wrapped in grey towels. Her heart pounded against her ribcage in anger, "Vette!" She yelled. Vette poked her head into the bedroom, a mischievous grin on her face.

"Yeah, boss?"

"Where are my clothes?" Soarise demanded. All of her casual wear was missing, leaving only her armor and evening attire.

"Oh, I couldn't remember the last time I had done laundry, so I put them all in the wash just to be safe,"

"What?" Soarise's clothes were swimming in the washing machine, beyond her reach, "You've got to be kidding me. You knew I was getting ready!"

"I sure did, that's why I left your fancy stuff,"

If Soarise was prone to violent fits, which she was but Vette seemed immune to, she would have throttled the girl for her impertinence. However, she only clenched her fists and scowled, "I've spoiled you, fool. I ought to put your collar back on, but-"

"-You think I'm too cute for that nasty thing," Vette chirped.

Soarise rolled her eyes at the Twi'lek's irrepressible nature. Why must it be impossible to stay mad at her? "Yes, fine, now, just go. You've caused a lot of trouble for me,"

"I know," She vanished around the corner, probably to go scheme on how she could further meddle with Soarise.

Soarise focused back on her closet. She couldn't wear her battle armor to dinner; that would be ridiculous. Her travel clothes she had been wearing earlier were wrinkled from being in her steamy bathroom's hamper, plus they were covered in dust anyways, which is why she changed in the first place. Her evening attire was nearly out of the question, but her only option. She had acquired an elegant assortment of evening gowns because more often than she cared for, her missions sometimes wound her up attending balls and banquets. A'cost insisted that she mask her 'brutish strength' with her pretty appearance, much like his wanting for her to train to improve her manner with the imperial matriarch. As a woman, she became a weapon in multiple ways.

Consequentially, the imperial matriarch who had made her a lady had selected a dozen of gowns that were black and alluring. Shuffling through the hangars, Soarise dismissed each gown with a plunging neckline or dramatic slit. That eliminated half and nothing strapless, so she took out three more. No midriff either, so now she was left with two to choose between. On board a military station, a floor length gown would be too out of place, so that left only one.

She supposed she could consider this one to be her favorite. It was black, of course, but much more casual than the others. The dress was fitted to her silhouette and the hem fell just above her knee. A simple V-neck that only highlighted her décolletage instead of baring her entire chest made it the ideal choice. She glanced at the clock hanging in her room. 17:45. _What? _How on earth did she manage to spend over two hours taking a shower, putting on her make-up, and fixing her hair? She still had to find where his quarters even were. Nearly frantic, she slipped the dress over her head and shoved her feet into her least sexy heels. She tossed her lightsaber and lipstick into her purse and flung on a Nautolan pearl necklace. With a spritz of perfume, she hurried to leave.

Running out into the living room as she struggled to thread her matching pearl earring through her lobe, Soarise practically tripped over Vette.

"You look fantastic!" Vette complimented, but Soarise didn't have the time or patience to accept it.

"Whatever, I'm late!" She snapped, walking as quickly as she possibly could down the ramp. It was fortunate that she had a heightened sense of balance, otherwise she never would have been able to speed walk in 2-inch high heels.


	8. Chapter 8

After wasting several precious minutes trying to find the life, Soarise finally had a moment to breath as she waited to reach what she was hoping was the right floor. A light flashed as the lift slowed. It wasn't to her floor yet, but someone had called for the life. _Fantastic, more time to lose,_ she thought. The door slid open, revealing Lt Elvriss waiting with her arms crossed as usual. Elvriss's red eyes widened when she saw Soarise's elegant dress, but she said nothing as she stepped onto the elevator.

"My lord," She nodded.

"Lieutenant,"

The lift continued to rise. Soarise checked the clock on her comm, 18:05. She was already 5 minutes late.

"Permission to speak freely, my lord?" Elvriss asked, interrupting the silence.

Soarise braced herself, "Granted,"

"Where are you going dressed so…pretty?" From the tone in her voice, Soarise could tell that 'pretty' was not a compliment, "Our bar here is nothing to dress up for, plus I'm sure all of the men here are too dull for someone like you. Unless this is some part of your investigation?"

After a two second conversation, Soarise was certain she did not like this Chiss woman, "If you must know, I am going to confer with Captain Quinn on the more particular details of the investigation,"

"Dressed like that? You'll give the captain an aneurism the second he sees you,"

Soarise clenched her jaw. She did not like the insinuating tone in Elvriss's voice, "How I dress and how the captain handles it is each our own personal affair,"

"I looked at your files. You're the one who gave him that recommendation. The one that got his the job he has now. The job that I was in line for long before he ever was,"

Oh, that explained a lot about the Lt's standoffish demeanor. Soarise rolled her eyes. She was not going to let imperial politics and petty jealousy interfere with her investigation, "I gave him that recommendation because of his superb performance. The fact that he was given this position instead of you is something neither I nor he could control,"

"Perhaps. However, the fact that he is a Human male I'm sure didn't hurt the chances of that happening," The Lt muttered.

Soarise sighed. If Elvriss was going to vent to her about the Empire's discrimination of aliens and females, this was going to be a long elevator ride. There was no denying the harsh prejudices that the Empire had against aliens. She was well aware of this, hence why she kept Vette either at her side or on her ship. However, Elvriss had no place to be confronting her like this. Choosing to avoid the sticky argument, Soarise stayed silent.

Elvriss glared at her, watching her passive reaction. She snorted, "Your silence speaks volumes,"

Slowly, Soarise returned her stare, "Lt. As sympathetic as I am to your situation, you should not speak to me in such a manner, since I am your superior. Perhaps you should stop blaming the Empire for your misfortune and look inwardly. If you behave this disrespectfully to your other superiors, then that is the cause of the stagnation of your career,"

"I'm not talking about_ race_, my lord," Elvriss's voice was low, "I'm referring to the fact that Quinn can't seem to think straight around you. I've watched that man for months and never saw him glance twice at a woman. You appear and suddenly he is flustered and frazzled. You have an effect on him, and you know it. Perhaps you are flattered by his infatuation, so you continue to preen yourself around him in some sort of game of control. Tease him just enough to keep him interested,"

Soarise could not think of a response before the lift dinged as it reached its destination. She stared open jawed at Elvriss, who only smiled in response, "Regardless, have a pleasant evening, my lord," The Lt bowed curtly, then exited, leaving Soarise flabbergasted.

Her heart was immobile in her chest, deflated by the anger swelling in her stomach. She watched Elvriss walk away triumphant. It would be so easy, just a wave of her hand and the Chiss would fall over. She should teach her a lesson for speaking to her so presumptuously_. Punish her and it will only make her believe her words are true_, Soarise told herself. A'cost had warned her not to use violence as a crutch to make others fear her. Throttling people on a whim would only weaken her control, and no one will take her seriously and only view her as a maniac. She was not a maniac. Not yet.

But this insolence would not go entirely unpunished. Barely raising her fist just as the lift's doors began to slide shut, Soarise used the Force to snag Elvriss's ankle. She smiled as the Lt stumbled, not actually falling, but merely tripping over thin air. The door closed before she could see her reaction. Smugly content, Soarise waited for the lift to reach the residential deck.

Her chrono read 1812. Blast. Poor Quinn was probably up in knots because of her tardiness. The words that Elvriss had said were lies. Soarise was not controlling Quinn. She was fond of the captain, certainly, and she did notice the effect she had on him. It didn't take a Lorrdian to see that he was attracted to her. However, both he and she were keeping their relationship on a professional level. From an outsiders' perspective, it may look incriminating, but that was simply a misinterpretation. Her heart was racing now, but she struggled to control it.

She should address Quinn and confirm with him that their relationship was strictly professional. They were colleagues in the Empire, connected by the goals of expanding and protecting Imperial domain. That was it, nothing more.

Of course, she would wait until after the meal to discuss it. No point in spoiling a good meal with such heavy talk.


	9. Chapter 9

Malavai was up in stitches. The time was 1815. Soarise was 15 minutes late now. The chocolate biscuits were almost done, filling the quarters with their rich aroma. That, combined with the dim lighting, made the room seem cozy and inviting. Too inviting.

Maybe she wasn't coming at all. Perhaps she got caught up in some Sith affair. Or maybe she never had intended to come anyway. He was a fool for believing she would. Just as well, the whole matter was too nerve wracking to handle anyways. He stood up, smoothing the wrinkles from his pants. May as well clean up, he decided. Part of him was relieved, though he could feel a definite weight of disappointment weighing down.

A sharp knock came at his door.

His heart nearly leapt from his chest, "Just a moment!" He called out, deepening his voice to mask his surprise. Last minute, he scattered a couple holo magazines on his coffee table to make it appear a little more homey. Or should he just leave them perfectly stacked to show his utmost attention to detail? Perplexed, he stared at them for a moment, trying to decide. _Too late_, he told himself, and then went to open the door.

"My lord, I am pleased you could make it," He said as he opened it. "I hope you were able to…Oh," His cordial words trailed off.

Soarise stood before him, wearing a tasteful yet alluring dress. Her perfume wafted over him, sending his synapses into overload. Her arms were crossed as she leaned against his door frame. Narrowing her dark eyes, she smiled amusedly at his shock, "Evening, Captain," She said politely.

"Ah, yes, evening, Lord Grae. Do come in," He gestured to the quarters, "Everything for dinner is ready,"

Soarise nodded and walked in. She paused for a moment as she realized how dim the lighting was, "Nice atmosphere," she wryly commented, keeping her arms tightly crossed over her chest.

He groaned inwardly. Knew it, the lighting was too incriminating. "My apologies. The light bulbs died just a short while ago, and maintenance takes a while to respond to such menial things. Have a seat, my lord," He motioned to the small dining table he had set for two, with another emergency lantern placed on it. As she sat, he hurried over to the kitchen, pulling the slightly overdone biscuits out from the oven to cool and picked up the pot of red noodles and pan of bread.

"Mm, pasta," Soarise smiled, "Looks spectacular, especially compared to what I've been living off of most of my life. You ever hear of Korriban cuisine?"

He sat down across from her, ladling out the noodles, "No, I actually haven't,"

"That's because there isn't any," She grinned at her own joke, making him chuckle in response.

"Ah, makes sense. The Imperial Navy's budget doesn't allow enough funding for really substantial food, so I more or less taught myself to cook in order to survive. I pity the men who rely on the mess hall,"

Soarise twirled her fork in the noodles, twining a wad of them. Savoring the smell of them, she slipped it delicately into her mouth. As she chewed, the look on her face was almost pure delight, "You're fantastic!" She announced after she swallowed, "You should cook more often,"

He beamed at her praise, "I would, but I have often been ridiculed for it,"

"How so?"

"Other soldiers make derogatory comments with implications that I am feminine in nature," He scowled at himself. Why was he telling her this?

"And why is being feminine an insult to you?" Soarise asked, pointing her fork at him.

He almost spit out his food, "I meant no disrespect, my lord," He earnestly apologized, "There is nothing wrong with being feminine, I just, ah, well,"

He rambled until he saw her grinning wickedly, "Oh. You're toying with me," He realized, "I wish you wouldn't do so, I'll break out in hives,"

A flinch fluttered across her face as he accused her of toying with him, "I don't mean to toy with you, Quinn," She said quietly. Something was bothering her, he could tell.

Awkward silence fell over the table for several minutes as they ate the food.

"I have another apology to make," He finally said. He set his fork down to hide the fact that his hand was shaking, "For before, on Balmorra, in the cantina. I behaved in a most deplorable manner,"

"How so?" Her eyes were shadowed by the dim light, but he could see she knew exactly what he was talking about. She wasn't going to make it easy for him.

He cleared his throat, "I made an unintentional romantic advance on you because my judgment was clouded by intoxication,"

"Do you regret it?" She asked him, swirling her fork around the plate. She did not look at him, the toying tone gone from her voice.

"What?"

She looked him in the eye, "Do you regret it?"

_I regret I could not have done it proper and sober. I regret that you and I are two different people who could never hope to have a future together. I regret that thoughts of you distract me and there is nothing I can do to stop them._

"No," He answered finally.

"Then do not apologize to me,"

"My lord?"

"You acted on your passion, Quinn, which is something I respect as a Sith. Passion is what will make you strong and fearless. Do not _ever_ apologize for that," She smacked her fist on the table, eyes alight, "The moment you begin to let fear hold you back is the moment you become weak,"

She sat still for a moment, fuming. There were a thousand things Malavai wanted to say, but not one came to mind. Soarise sunk her head down, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Excuse me, I did not mean to get so excited,"

"It's quite alright," He whispered. This whole affair was a bad idea. He never should have invited her over and never should have apologized. All he wanted to do was take a shower and crawl into bed.

Soarise frowned as she watched Malavai stew over his dinner. _Well, now I've done it_, she thought bitterly. If she didn't do something soon, the whole meal would be ruined, "I ran into Lt Elvriss on my way over," She said, casually changing the subject.

"Isn't she just so pleasant?" Malavai scoffed. Soarise was already prickled by her in a day, she could only imagine the torment Elvriss had put him through, "She is so adherent to her personal moral code that she judges anyone who violates it, however arbitrary it is. The very fact that I am a man who outranks her is enough to offend her,"

"I agree," Soarise nodded. She wasn't going to bring up the details of their confrontation, "Oh, do you have the map I can download? I was lost, so that's why I was so late,"

Malavai wiped a speck of sauce off his chin, "Certainly,"

It seemed like the conversation may be saved. "Also, would it be possible that I have a copy of the air system's schematics? I feel like that would be beneficial for the investigation,"

"Giving you an actual copy would be against protocol; However, I can show it to you whenever you need it,"

"Fantastic,"


	10. Chapter 10

Soarise held her heels in one hand as she tiptoed silently back on board the Amnesty. She had no interest in speaking to Vette quite yet; she was still trying to savor the memory of the night. It was the first time she had had a civil meal with a pleasant person- a handsome man, no less. Vette was the only other person she was comfortable to dine with, so Malavai provided a refreshing change of pace. As she walked past the Twi'lek's room, she noticed the lights were out. She must have fallen asleep.

After finishing both dinner and the chocolate dessert Malavai had made, they just talked for a long time. She wasn't sure entirely what about, since there were so many things. Politics, life on Korriban and Dromund Kaas, benefits of treadmills, Tatooine (She had never been there, but he had twice), the things that scared them most, on and on, the night went.

In fact, they talked about almost everything except the investigation. He downloaded the map of the station to her comm and promised to show her the schematics of the ducts the next day. A small part of her felt guilty, but she really did not worry about it. So what if she spent an evening to herself for once? It didn't mean her concentration was completely skewed. By having this night meant that she was able to get some troubling obstacles out of her way. Malavai was able to ease his guilt, therefore, making the investigation go much smoother.

Changing into her silk pajamas (black, of course) that Vette had set out on her bed for her, Soarise slipped under her thick blanket, ready to sleep. Closing her eyes, she replayed the night's event over in her head until she began to fall asleep. Just as she was almost completely asleep, a shiver jolted her spine.

She sat straight up, the blood rushing out of her head, leaving her dizzy. Blinking away the dark spots in her vision, she struggled to look around her room. Carefully, she reached under her pillow, grasping her lightsaber in her hand. Something prickled her senses. She got out of bed, wide awake and weapon raised, "Vette?" She called out.

No reply.

Soarise crept to her closet, the door to it closed. She touched the knob, which was cold beneath her fingertips. Slowly, she opened it, peering inside the closet.

"Vette!" She screamed, covering her mouth.

Her beloved Twi'lek servant lay crumpled in the corner of her closet, her old shock collar strapped to her neck. The circuits on it had been blown out from overuse. Kneeling beside her, Soarise felt her frail wrist, the faintest of a pulse beating. Vette looked blearily at her, half conscious. Her lips moved as she tried to say something.

"Shush, Vette, I'm calling a medic," Soarise said, scrambling for her comm.

As she stood up, Soarise saw her floor length mirror had char marks burned into its surface. Her stomach froze as she read the word carved into it.

_"Genesis"_


End file.
